Jerric's Story, A Nord's Adventures in Cyrodiil Options

[SubRosa]

So Jerric's facial contortions were not due to something he ate after all! Just kidding. I figured it was about him fingering the mountain.

I wonder if Jerric's "good enough for dinner" sniff test equals "ewwww!" for the rest of us?

Ulfe and her errant fetching antics are much fun, as usual.

So Teekeus got the goods eh? I expected him to be all over Jerric like fleas on troll (excellent metaphor there). Now I wonder if the dynamic duo will steal it back from Teekeus so they can find out what is really in that book. I suppose they might even take it to Earana for translating, then swipe it back from her, and put it back in Teekeus' things when they are done. If they are quick enough, Teek won't even be the wiser.

The Blade of the Medic, I might have gone with The Vampires Kiss, but who am I to argue? Absorb Health is potent stuff. Especially at high levels of it. My Mazken Aerin enchanted her sword with a sigil stone Absorb Health of 25 points. She would fight Clannfears in melee and come out without a scratch.

Jerric's caution and self doubt is well deserved here, given that he is something of a marked man by the Mythic Dawn. But I doubt many people would let that stop them from making a rendezvous with that special someone. I would not. Then all that falls away, and there is only the Abster.

[Acadian]

'Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes.'
Thank you so much, Chef Grits, for feeding me! Yum!

The antics of the stick-chasing Ulfe are wonderful! She shares a similar trait with our skirt-chasing heroic Nord and, it seems, just as likely to fetch up the wrong one. And fun to see Athragar suffer the dignity of being tongued by a queen.

“I guess that quieting enchantment bears some thought. I know what the elf would say.”
So do I!

Sobering thoughts invade Jerric’s mind as he tries to sneak like a Khajiit to his rendezvous. MD sleepers, Darnand’s interest in Abiene, his own ache for her. . . . What a wonderful ending to this episode!

[McBadgere]

Fantastic!!...That'll teach me to wait and wind up distracted before can I get around to posting!!... ...

Aaaamywho...Loved both chapters...This trawl around Chorrol is definately one of my fave sections of the story so far...

Still think there may be trouble ahead for our chums...Jealousy and all that...

Amazing stuff...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*... ...

[haute ecole rider]

I'm going to mostly echo what everyone else has said about your posts since I've been absent.

But I have to point out the irony in this juxtaposition:

Darnand, he thought with a grin. Let’s see what he bought me.

Linen drawers, a pair of doeskin camp moccasins, and a tin of armpit powder. . . He supposed the absence of a spare comb and breath freshener should be considered a compliment.

Followed a short time later by:

Dinner was roast pork, sour cabbage, mashed potatoes, pickled beets and onions, and kale cooked with vinegar and red pepper flakes.

Umm, about that breath freshener?

[Grits]

King Coin: I’m glad you enjoyed Darnand’s supplies for Jerric. Close quarters with the Nord can be a trial for Darnand. That Muffle spell is one of my favorites, too. When I saw it in Skyrim, I immediately thought of Jerric with his heavy feet. Thank you, KC!

mALX: Thank you, mALX! I’ll be tense until I get this part posted. Abiene finally gets her say. Whew!

SubRosa: I’m sure Darnand’s introducing him to armpit powder is no accident. Blade of the Medic in the game has the same enchantment as Aerin’s. It’s awesome, but a real pain to keep charged. It costs him a fortune! Thank you, SubRosa!

Acadian: I’m glad you enjoyed the winter dinner. I had such a Breton feast planned for you in the last part, but that Darnand wouldn’t pay attention to the food! Argh! Thank you, Acadian!

McBadgere: Thank you, McBadgere! I think you may be right about the jealousy... Maybe they’ll get distracted by saving the world, or something. Now that they’re in Chorrol, I don’t want them to leave! Or maybe that’s Abiene taking over again…

haute ecole rider: The other end might need freshening after all of those pickles and cabbage. And tonight he won’t be able to blame it on the dog! It’s great to have you back, haute!


Where we are: Heart’s Day in Chorrol. Jerric questioned himself the whole way to the guest cottage. Abiene opened the door.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Ten


Abiene stood in the doorway in a thin dressing robe, firelight casting a glow around her. Jerric stepped in and quickly closed the door. Then she was in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

When his senses were filled with her, she slipped away.

“It’s Heart’s Day and I didn’t get you anything,” Abiene said, blushing. “But there’s something I want to tell you.”

“Me too. Here. I, uh, well I forgot about Heart’s Day too. This was supposed to be one of your birthday presents.” Jerric handed the parcel over and tugged at her robe.

“Candied ginger!” Abiene kissed his throat before opening the jar. “I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger. You had been snacking on your alchemy ingredients!” She placed a piece on his tongue before taking one for herself, closing her eyes with enjoyment.

Jerric took the opportunity to shed his clothing. The cottage was a single room with only one door. All of the windows were covered. “Oh, yeah, I remember that. I was making Cure Disease potions. Gods, you were on fire. Then that Altmer walked in and nearly caught me up your skirt.” A few steps brought them to the bed. The quilts were already folded back. “I was thinking about Saturalia, though. The way you loved Bertille’s gingerbread guild hall. That must be how you looked when you were a little kid.”

“Mmm...” Abiene had a smile in her voice. Her skin was a dream. “Wait! First I want to look at you.” She yanked on his hair. “Come on, get back up.”

“Do we have to do this now? Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?”

Abiene laughed, but she didn’t relent. “Now,” she said, squirming and shoving. “Move.”

Jerric stood for inspection, hoping she would be quick. “There are some things you’re not going to like.” He glanced down. “Say, you should start on this side.”

Abiene was already running her hands over the scar across his back. “Who did this?” she demanded.

“Dremora.”

She made an exasperated sound. “I mean who healed it? This is a botched job, Jerric. It’s going to take a lot of work to correct.”

“I did. I was, uh, pressed for time.” He crawled back onto the bed. “Yes, it pains me; yes, I want you to fix it; not now, it can wait.” He decided to leave the nose reconstruction out of this discussion.

Abiene stood with fists on hips, wearing only a frown. Jerric sprawled suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

In an instant she was in his arms again, laughing. He thanked whatever daedra or Divine made this woman as changeable as the weather.

That was his last thought for some time. Eventually he realized he was gazing at the ceiling. Abiene rested at his side. He had to bend his neck to see it, but her face held a look that melted him. Like the bards say. My heart is a flame. He almost laughed.

But this kind of feeling leaves too big a hole behind. Jerric stroked a thumb over her cheek. She had to close those eyes so he could bear it.

He looked around and made himself notice the rest of the cottage’s furnishings. Low dressers, cupboards, bookcases, and luggage stands lined the walls. Tapestries and painted landscapes hung above them. One corner held a chamber stool, wash basin, and a short but deep sitting tub. A screen stood folded to the side. Two chairs were pulled up to the other fireplace with a low table between them. Another table stood under the draped windows, writing materials at the ready. The cottage was cozy, but fine. It would be easy to imagine Abiene here.

His sweat was almost dry on their skin. Abiene rolled away and stretched like a cat, taking time to savor the motion. He knew she would get up to use the wash basin next. Even watching her was a pleasure.

“Are you hungry?” Abiene asked. “I have some things for sandwiches. I brought ale and mead, too.” She walked to the sideboard and poured a goblet of wine.

“Maybe later.”

She soon rejoined him on the bed. Her eyes were thoughtful over the edge of the goblet. He waited while she gathered herself.

Abiene set down the wine. “Do you remember what you told me that night on the beach? I’ve had some time to think since I’ve been here alone. I’m tired of telling lies, and I’m through with all of the hiding. I want to be who I am, and… and never mind about those who don’t like it. Part of who I am is loving you. I know you said no promises, and I’m not asking for any. You make me better, Jerric. Stronger. I’ve been wrong to deny you. I want to look folk in the eye and have them know that I’m yours.”

Jerric didn’t know words foul enough to curse this situation. He kicked himself for not saying his piece before. “I can’t. I can’t be with you. Openly.”

Abiene sat bolt upright. “What?”

“For your safety! Gods, Abiene! I’m mixed up in things, and I can’t protect you. It’s already started. Folk are dying. Someday they’ll come for you if they learn about us.”

He could tell she believed him, but that wasn’t enough. “What about Darnand?” she demanded. “What about Lildereth? Everyone knows they stand by your side. Are you telling them they can’t be with you? I can protect myself better than you think!” She rose up on her knees, full of fight.

This isn’t one I can win, thought Jerric. He sat up on the bed. “Abiene, there’s no argument. I have to trust that you’ll be careful. Please don’t make this be the last time.”

For a moment he thought she was going to hit him, but then her fists turned into twisting fingers. Anger drained away into embarrassment. “I feel like such an idiot,” she groaned, slumping down onto her haunches. “All that time I was so worried, and now I thought we could finally—”

“Don’t.” Relief made him shaky, and guilt was a shadow at his back. He pulled her close to hide it. “We still have right now.”

“Stay the night,” she murmured. “The way I never would. Stay and hold me.”

He didn’t need words to answer.

___

Jerric woke in the night. Abiene shook his shoulder, frantic. A spell’s watery light surrounded them.

“What is it?” Jerric hissed, reaching for a blade.

“It’s you,” she cried. “It’s you. You’re so much worse. Stendarr’s mercy, Jerric, what’s happening?”

Jerric sank back into the pillows. His frost crackled away in a harmless mist. “I was dreaming,” he guessed. “I don’t remember it.”

“I tried to reach you. I know, I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I think I made it worse. I’m so sorry!”

“I thought you said you can’t read a person’s thoughts.” He realized the sheets were damp with his sweat. His heart was still pounding.

“I can’t, and I wouldn’t intrude like that even if I could. I promise! But I can feel your guilt and sorrow, and your hope is so much stronger. But there’s that part of you I can’t touch. No, I won’t because I’m afraid. It would hurt me, like staring at the sun.”

Her words gave Jerric a cold feeling.

“I saw it when you came back to Anvil, and it’s still there,” she whispered. “What is it?”

Jerric rubbed his eyes. “Akatosh. In the chapel in Kvatch I asked for something, I didn’t even know what. Strength, or will. To keep fighting. I guess he gave it to me, because I’m still going.” Jerric squeezed Abiene’s hands. “That’s what I meant when I said I don’t belong to myself any more. I can’t explain it, but I’m doing what I’m meant to do, for as long as I can. It’s a war, love. We can’t just get used to it, and it’s not going away.”

Abiene’s face looked as pale as first light. “Akatosh… That’s why you close the Gates. It’s not just revenge. You think you can end this.” She pulled her hands away and took a ragged breath.

He watched her struggle for a long moment. There was nothing she could change. Maybe this time she would accept it.

Now her voice sounded small, as if she had somehow diminished. “I want you to say that you’ll come back to me.”

We’ve been over this, thought Jerric. Silence stretched between them.

After time she lay down next to him, curling against his side in the way he wished was more familiar. He fell asleep with tears cooling his shoulder.

[SubRosa]

“I remember that day in the work room. You were so sweaty, and you tasted of ginger.
This was a nice touch, to flash back to that previous encounter.

Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?
At least he is honest about his... abilities!

So Abiene is finally ready to be an honest woman. Well it's about damn time woman. But I am afraid her timing cannot be worse. Not with the danger Jerric worrying about placing his friends during the last episode, and his need to be secretive. This is not going to go over well...

And finally the realization that Jerric is more than just a regular guy with a lot of luck. At least not anymore. Akatosh's fire is in him. That was a wonderful way of revealing it. Methinks that besides from a mere blessing, our Jerric maybe be an actual dragonborn as well. That would explain a lot.

[mALX]

“Do we have to do this now? Can’t it wait, say, three minutes?”

Abiene stood with fists on hips, wearing only a frown. Jerric sprawled suggestively and wiggled his eyebrows at her.

These two lines had me in hysterics !!!

“Maybe later.”

GAAAAH!!!! Jerric turned down food?

The section from Jerric's nightmare on was powerful and revealing a lot more of what Jerric has been holding back from everyone. There was not just a feeling of destiny here, but a feeling of finalization, mortality. Jerric doesn't think he will survive this, and doesn't want Abiene unprotected when he is gone is the feeling I got from that conversation.

Poor Darnand doesn't stand a chance against the chemistry between these two, but somehow I get the feeling he will eventually have his day.

Very powerful write !!!! Awesome !!!!

[King Coin]

Abiene the healer always. Three minutes?!

Interesting about the scar on his neck. I’m glad you took the time to share that with us.

Yikes! She wants him despite the ‘no promises’ warning. Doesn’t it usually end up that way? This isn’t what Jerric had in mind at all! I’m surprised that she took his answer as well as she did.

What?! Jerric cast in his dreams? I never considered that happening! That was a really strong ending for this chapter. It’s so easy to forget Jerric’s burdens when he’s such an easy going guy. He hides all his pain so well that you forget it is there. Touching at the end, Abiene wants him to make a promise he knows he can’t keep, and he doesn’t do it. Amazing!

[Acadian]

Wow! This was so powerful and so sad. Testimony to how precious you have made these two characters for all of us.

’He thanked whatever daedra or Divine made this woman as changeable as the weather.’
This was perfectly written!

Jerric didn’t know words foul enough to curse this situation. He kicked himself for not saying his piece before. “I can’t. I can’t be with you. Openly.”
Arrghh! These two bonking bunnies have finally overcome their fear of commitment. Abiene has committed to Jerric, even as her Nord has committed to Akatosh. Powerful and heartbreaking at the same time. Yet Jerric is right about the danger he exposes Abiene to, and I honor his decision.

“Don’t.” Relief made him shaky, and guilt was a shadow at his back. He pulled her close to hide it. “We still have right now.”
*sad sigh* We can hope for their future. After all, I remember when Jerric believed that closing an Oblivion Gate from the inside was tantamount to suicide – yet he did it and survived. Let us hope he can serve as Martin’s vessel and survive whatever Akatosh pours into him as well.

Just a beautiful episode!

[McBadgere]

...That's some amazing stuff right there, that is...

The first half was funny, flirty and little bit dirteh ...

And then it changed and it was beautiful and sad and scary too...

Wow...Loves me Jerric do I...I may have mentioned... ...

Wow again...

So very Nice One!!!

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

SubRosa: I remember way back in Kvatch you caught the whiff of time dragon brimstone when Jerric was on his knees in the chapel. He still doesn’t understand all of what happened. Thank you, SubRosa!

mALX: When Jerric turns down a sandwich, you know he’s really troubled! You’re exactly right about Jerric’s thinking on the Abiene situation. Of course, Abiene would skin him alive for using her own high-handed ways on her, if her thinking wasn’t so clouded. Thank you, mALX!

King Coin: Jerric wakes up ready for a fight thanks to his years guarding the caravan. That scar on his back was from the Gate he closed on this road trip while Darnand spent three days battling daedra with the Legion and County Kvatch Guard (and developing his inner badass in the process). You’re right to expect more of a fight from Abiene. He thinks they’re done with that discussion (again), while she’s just thinking it over. I’m so glad you pointed out Jerric’s silence at the very end. Thank you, KC!

Acadian: Thank you, Acadian! As you pointed out Jerric has been wrong before, and there is a lot he could still hope for. I’m sure you can imagine that this chapter has caused me some anxiety in both the creation and then in letting it go so that the events could happen. Your kind words are so reassuring.

McBadgere: You describe how I see them to a T. And may I mention that your Nol and Cestra are so inspiring. I’m no longer giving up on ideas because I’m afraid they’re too complicated to express. Many thanks, McB!


Where we are: Chorrol. Jerric and Abiene spent their first whole night together. Abiene said she was ready to let the world know that she is his woman. Jerric said no way, too dangerous. She later woke him in a panic while he was having one of his dreams. He explained the Akatosh situation, but did not mention Martin. She finally seemed to get the message.

Also: I hope I got the verb tense right in this very first section. If it’s not clear, I would love some advice about handling these review-without-flashback situations.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Eleven


Jerric strode up the hill toward Great Oak Place, a cold wind teasing his hair. He wasn’t sure how long he had slept after Abiene left for the chapel, but it had been long enough for the fire to die back down. Chorrol’s fashionable districts were sadly lacking in kahve stands and food carts. His best bet for a late breakfast was the guild hall.

He had awakened early to the sight of Abiene stretched out bare on a mat before the newly built fire. No morning sounds came in from the street. As he watched, Abiene rose up on her knees and placed her palms behind her hips. Then she slowly reached back to her heels, lifting her chest and chin toward the ceiling. After a few moments he had to remind himself to breathe.

There was something new in her eyes when she turned to look at him. A want that Jerric knew his body couldn’t answer. He could distract her, though. When she returned to the bed, they didn’t speak of the night before. But this time as he held her, all the things he wouldn’t say kept rising to the top of his mind.

Afterward she had rushed through her preparations for work, fumbling in her haste. Only time for one quick kiss as she raced for the door. “I’m staying overnight at the chapel,” she had told him, “but I’ll be here tomorrow night. It might be late, but I promise I will come.”

She had stepped out into the misty morning, turning to give him a last look before she shut the door. Later his life detection ring had allowed him to exit the cottage unobserved. Now Jerric pressed the key into his palm, remembering the fire’s warm light on her face as she stood with grey dawn behind her. Rather than lifting his spirits, the image haunted him. What had Darnand said the other day? “I am out of sorts.” Jerric knew the feeling.

Great Oak Place was a popular meeting spot even on a chilly morning. A dozen folk in fur-mantled cloaks had gathered in pairs and small groups. Others were moving through the circle. Earana stood alone glaring up at the Mages Guild hall.

Maybe I can get her to leave, thought Jerric. He walked over.

“You’re a bold little thing,” she said as he approached. “Unless you’re taking the job, I’m afraid you’re no use to me. Run along, now.”

An Altmer’s arrogance no longer made an impression on Jerric. Besides, she was a little taller. “You might as well move on,” Jerric told her. “I found your friend up at Cloud Top. He’s dead. I gave the book and all those papers to Teekeeus.”

“What?” Earana shrieked, gaining the attention of several passersby. “You gave him the translations? What were you thinking? You don’t know the power you’ve surrendered! And here I thought one of you mercenaries might actually have a brain!”

Jerric started to turn away. She quickly continued in a more reasonable tone. “All right, all right. We can deal with this. You’ll have to get it back, that’s all. You have access to the Mages Guild, don’t you? You should be able to walk right in, find it, and take it. And if you can’t, then break in. I want it back!”

“Uh, no. I’m not going to do that.”

Earana gave him a smug little smile. She began to gesture, her fingers trailing green mist. “Oh, I think you’ll—”

Jerric struck her across the face with the back of his hand. Her sharp cry was cut off by his fist in her belly. Earana slumped to the ground, heaving for breath.

He found himself surrounded by irritated Chorrol Guardsmen. “I’m done,” Jerric said to them. He held his empty hands out to the sides, palms down. “I’ll go with you.”

“Stop! You violated the law!” The florid Imperial sounded personally affronted. Jerric stood still while he caught up with the situation, grateful that this man’s blade was even slower than his mind.

Earana struggled to her feet in a swirl of healing light. Her angry hiss warned off a would-be helper. Two guards flanked Jerric. The third had his eyes on Earana.

“Let’s go,” said the female guard. They headed toward the castle.

“Break the law on my watch, will you?” the first guard continued.

Jerric ignored him. “I’m Jerric,” he said to the woman.

She gave him a look. “Constable Olivera.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Jerric had an uncomfortable moment at the castle when he realized he lacked sufficient funds. A double-check of his pockets produced a coin purse, not his but familiar. He paid the fine.

Halfway back to Great Oak Place, Lildereth appeared at his side. She wore her fur-lined leathers, and her hair was in a scout’s high braid.

“That was neatly done, sprig.” He handed her purse back as they walked. “I guess you saw.”

“You and trouble,” she said. Her voice sounded tight.

Jerric glanced over. “What’s the problem?”

“I wasn’t quick enough. I’m sorry.”

He stopped while she stood uphill from him, so she wouldn’t have to bend her neck so much. “Quick enough? What were you going to do, shoot an unarmed high elf in front of three guards and half of the town? Before breakfast?” His stomach grumbled.

Lildereth spoke in a rush. “I could have paralyzed her, or made her soil her dress and run away, or even just stand there and drool. But I didn’t do any of those things.”

“Don’t worry, it was probably just a charm spell. And anyway I might have absorbed it.”

“What if it was a frenzy spell? You would have attacked her and then the guards. I don’t have enough magicka to control that many people. They would have cut you down right in front of me!” Lildereth’s eyes were swimming.

“I did attack her. Well, simple battery. It turned out all right.” Jerric took her cold little hand. “Why are you so upset?”

It was a moment before she got the words out. “It happened too fast!” she finally managed. “I wasn’t expecting it!”

Jerric suppressed his eye roll and began to walk again. “You’re not my guardian elf. I appreciate it, but I was getting out of trouble for a long time before we met. Just forget about Earana. There was no harm done.” He glanced over to make sure she was still there. “And thanks for the loan, sprout.”

Lildereth appeared to have pulled herself together.

“Did you just get into Chorrol?” he asked.

She shot him a look that told him not to bother prying.

He changed the subject. “I’m staying at the Grey Mare. Ulfe’s been sleeping at the guild hall.” He spent the rest of the walk filling in the few days’ news.

Lildereth stayed with him as they searched for Darnand. They found him pulverizing dried lavender sprigs in the basement.

The Breton spoke as soon as he saw them. As usual, he did not bother with conventional greetings. “Jerric, you will recall the spell I mentioned last night. I crafted it for you while I was in the Imperial City. I have finally had the opportunity to write it into a scroll.”

“Did you sneak into the Praxographical Center?” Lildereth demanded at the same time Jerric asked, “How did you manage that?”

Darnand ignored their questions. “It has a mild attack on oneself from the Destruction school combined with a brief boost from the school of Mysticism. I intend for you to absorb your own spell. If my calculations are correct, you will experience a net gain of magicka.”

Jerric and Lildereth exchanged a look. Jerric was pleased to see that for once Lildereth was as dumbfounded as he.

“All right,” said Jerric.

Darnand rose, rubbing his palms together. “Excellent. I will retrieve it.” He dashed away and up the stairs.

As much as Jerric wanted to question, tease, and find some crispy bacon, he had a more pressing concern.

“Listen, elf.”

Lildereth gave him an eyebrow. “Yes, human?”

“If you’re still feeling like a poor bodyguard, there’s something you can do for me. You know my enchanted helm? I need you to get it back. It’s at Weynon Priory, probably in the priory house. There’s a secret room upstairs. Behind a cupboard.”

She snorted. “You got arrested at a priory? That has to be some kind of record.”

“No, I, uh, gave it to one of the brothers. Well, he took it. I want it back. I’ll pay you.”

Lildereth’s face darkened with anger. “What a thing for you to say to me! If I wanted your gold, I would already have it! Shen shi nui!”

Fight or flee, Jerric thought. It doesn’t have to make sense. “How should I know what you want?” he shot back. “Hells, you screwed Darnand and now you won’t touch him. He’s still not right about it. Why did you do that to him?”

“You know what that was about,” she snapped. “It could have been anyone. Don’t tell me you’ve never held on to someone just to change what you’re feeling.”

You have no idea, thought Jerric. “What do you want from him, then?” he asked quickly. “From either of us? Why are you with us?” He felt badly for pushing while she was off balance, but since he wasn’t paralyzed in a puddle of piss, it might be working.

She took a few breaths in the way she had of getting past her anger. “I’ll need your help, like I told you. Someday. And… I don’t want to be alone any more. Like you said that night on the Black Road.” She hugged herself around the middle. Her eyes got huge, but there was no lie in them. “This hunt is taking so long. It’s all that I am now. Sometimes I just want to be my old self for a little while.”

It was as if a wild creature was about to touch his hand. Jerric tried to speak gently. “What are you hunting? What is this about, Lildereth?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not ready. I can’t let you know me this way. I’m sorry, Jerric.”

“I guess you’ll let me know when you need my help. I might not be there for you. You know that, right? You should have picked a different Nord.”

Now he saw just how much he could hurt her. “I’ll get your helm back.” Then in a blink, she was gone.

Darnand trotted down the stairs and spoke as if there had been no interruption. “Here is the scroll. Pay attention when you use it, and you will know the spell. It is quite simple, really.” He looked around. “Where is Lildereth?”

Jerric opened the scroll. See how he likes being ignored, he thought.

Darnand held a hand up in warning. “You should know that—”

“So bay few,” Jerric read aloud.

Flames burst into life around his body. Jerric’s involuntary yelp sucked in a lungful of stinking smoke. White light flashed across his eyes as the fire flickered out. His skin remembered burning an instant after Darnand’s spell cooled it. His friend’s panicked face filled his vision. Jerric took a rasping breath. Then Darnand blinked and skipped backward.

Belatedly, Jerric reached for Darnand’s throat, unable to curse through a fit of coughing. The sight of his own hands stopped him. Shirt cuffs hung loose around his wrists, attached to nothing. The skin of his forearms gleamed bald and smooth. Blades, buckles, coins, and keys jingled against the floor. Cloth slumped around his ankles. He looked down.

“By the Nine,” Darnand breathed from a safe distance.

Jerric stood stunned for a moment. Then he lunged for Darnand.

The brief chase up through the guild hall convinced Jerric of the value of attribute-enhancing magic. He stood outside the locked door of Teekeeus’ bedchamber, palms testing the strength of the wood.

“Breton, you are a dead man!”

“You are not harmed,” Darnand said from inside the chamber. Bravado began to overtake the panic in his voice. “I felt it when I healed you, the damage was slight.”

“I’m as bare as a Bosmer!”

“No lasting harm was done.”

Jerric rested his forehead on the door. “What happened? I know you don’t want to kill me.”

“There was a slight chance you would not absorb the spell.”

Jerric’s fists made the panel shake in its frame. “Slight chance! You mother-humper!”

“Calm yourself! At least the spell worked.”

“What? You—” Jerric punched the door again. “Fire! Why did it have to be fire!”

“With your experience, you would receive more magicka than the cost with destruction magic. I am the most familiar with fire.” There was a brief silence, broken only by the air whistling through Jerric’s teeth. “You did not have anything important in your pockets, did you?”

Sixteen hells, thought Jerric. Abiene’s letters. He pushed a shoulder against the door. It felt like a deadbolt. There must be a turn latch on the inside. “You’d better thank the gods I never learned much Alteration!”

Darnand’s tone sounded reasonable, with a hint of terror. “Perhaps you could consider the spell as a grooming aid.”

Jerric looked again. He had to admit the results were astonishing. He stepped back and crossed his smooth arms over his hairless chest. “You can come out now. I’m not mad anymore.”

There was another short silence. “I am all right in here, actually. I have some things I need to do. In this chamber.”

“No, it’s fine. Come on out.”

“In a moment. Or… two.”

Jerric slammed his fists against the door. “I will starve you out like a rat!”

“Your pelt will have grown back by then. Nord.”

“That was my cleanest set of clothing!” Jerric considered his options. A flare might spread out of his control. Where did I leave my axe, he wondered.

“Your drawers deserved a cleansing by fire. But I apologize for the rest.”

“I’m going to go get some breakfast.” Jerric thumped a few steps away, then crept back.

“I can hear you breathing. At least go put on some trousers. The thought of you beating me in your present state is beyond disturbing.”

Jerric reached up and tugged the remains of his shirt from around his neck. A narrow black band showed where the flare had stopped. The letters were a loss too painful to think about.

I am yours, she had written. I am yours.

I should have destroyed them to keep her safe, Jerric thought. I owe Darnand my thanks. Still, I'd like to make him bleed a little first.

Teekeeus walked into the common room, took one look, and turned on his heel.

“Wait!” Jerric called as Teekeeus’ tail whisked back around the corner. “We’re nearly finished. Say, do you have the key?”

[mALX]

What is going on with Lildereth? And Jerric's jealousy over her tumble with Darnand needs to be slapped out of him, ROFL !!! I do think Jerric was out of sorts, so was Darnand and Lildereth. They remind me of siblings, all having a bad day at the same time and bouncing off each other in it.

From the activation of the scroll to the end of the chapter I was in hysterics! Just hope alll those letters got burned up, I'd hate to see anyone find them! Awesome, AWESOME chapter !!!!

[SubRosa]

“Stop! You violated the law!”
Those guys get so dramatic, don't they? So Jerric is making yet another trip to jail. Although this might be a new one for him. Maybe he could write a guidebook to all of Cyrodiil's lock ups? Still, hard to blame him though. It looks like Earana was going to Charm him.

Looks like Jerric and Darnand are not the only ones out of sorts. Add Lildreth to the list. She seems to be acting awfully overprotective of Jerric all of a sudden. It kind of makes me wonder if she is an undercover agent of the Blades rather than the Mythic Dawn, assigned to watch over Jerric without him knowing? That does not make sense though.

“Where is Lildereth?”
And where is her head at? That was a quite an intriguing argument she had with Jerric, and confusing. Who or what is she hunting?

“Perhaps you could consider the spell as a grooming aid.”

[ghastley]

“You did not have anything important in your pockets, did you?” Ah! the benefits of the gold standard for currency! Septims are fireproof!

Let me echo mALX's request for more insight on Lildereth soon.

“What are you hunting? What is this about, Lildereth?”

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m not ready. I can’t let you know me this way. I’m sorry, Jerric.”

This makes me think she's got a disease that she needs to cure, and a visit to the chapel is a bit late.

[King Coin]

Abiene is a busy woman, up early to the chapel, and then not planning on even leaving.

Jerric’s conflicted. He wants to protect her, but how do you say no to someone like her? Out of sorts indeed.

Earana’s dangerous! Dumbass guards. Definitely worth smacking Earana around though. Loved Jerric's little introduction to the lady guard.


Lildereth! Where the heck has she been? And what the heck is wrong with her? I mean, I’m happy that she has decided to keep traveling with Jerric and Darnand, but she’s acting really weird. Why is she suddenly worried about losing Jerric to some guards?

Well, Darnand’s dealing with his feelings by working his Breton butt off. Productive in some ways, very unproductive in others.

Lildereth, are we ever going to learn what she’s about?

And here’s the best part of the chapter! The spell and the chase! Reasonable with a hint of terror! Where’s my axe! I love these lines!

At least go put on some trousers. The thought of you beating me in your present state is beyond disturbing.”
My favorite by far!

Poor Teekeeus!! We’re nearly finished

[Acadian]

Regarding your tenses during Jerric’s recollections, you did very well. Inserting the strategic word ‘had’ at key junctures magically let us know when we were in the past. You then clearly let us know we rejoined the present by slipping in the word ‘now’. This little snippet of yours illustrates perfectly:
‘She had stepped out into the misty morning, turning to give him a last look before she shut the door. Later his life detection ring had allowed him to exit the cottage unobserved. Now Jerric pressed the key into his palm, remembering the fire’s warm light…’

“You’re a bold little thing,” she said as he approached.
Funny, ‘little’ and Jerric are not things one normally associates with each other. That said, I loved how closely you stuck to in-game lines in this scene. What a delightful choice that was, right down to the guard’s ‘Stop! You violated the law!’ Jerric’s response to Earana didn’t surprise – after all, we know how he feels about that green illusion magic.

How cleverly Lildereth ‘rescued’ him with her coin purse.

’It was a moment before she got the words out. “It happened too fast!” she finally managed. “I wasn’t expecting it!”
This left me stunned and excited - for my own elf could have uttered those very words! Perhaps Buffy is not the only wood elven lass who can be short circuited by something rapid and unexpected.

“Listen, elf.”
Lildereth gave him an eyebrow. “Yes, human?”
Oh, I simply loved this!

Aiiieeeyiiyii! As soon as Jerric offered Lildereth money, I ducked in anticipation of her response. I was relieved she took pity on his . . . Nordness and, indeed, did not paralyze him into a puddle of piss.

’Darnand’s tone sounded reasonable, with a hint of terror. “Perhaps you could consider the spell as a grooming aid.”

What a wonderful blend of romance, mystery and humor you wove for us in this episode!

[McBadgere]

...That last section had me in stitches...But for some reason this

Teekeeus walked into the common room, took one look, and turned on his heel.

Oh, it's just too funny... ...

But yeah, what mALX said about the slapping, he's just spent the night with Abiene and now he's moping over Lildreth again?...

Ah, the desire to slap Earana... ...*Applauds*...

The mystery with Lildreth is brilliant...Looking forward to seeing more of that...

Absolutely amazing stuff...Love it!!...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[Grits]

mALX: You’re so right, they were just like siblings pushing to see how far they could go! Jerric and Lildereth are especially still testing each other. Lildereth will spill it soon, I promise. And don’t worry, those letters were burned to ash. Thank you, mALX!

SubRosa: Lildereth definitely had an unsettling arrival in Chorrol. You’re right, she’s no Blades agent. Just a friend who got a bad scare when she imagined Jerric shot down while taking on the Chorrol guard under a hostile spell. Of course you’re right, it was only a Charm spell, but Lil had plenty of time to imagine the worst while she followed Jerric’s little party to the prison. Thank you, SubRosa!

ghastley: A disease, now I wish I had thought of that! She would be out of luck if she lived on the PS3, though. She will soon tell all (well, most), and I’m sure the guys will not think it’s as bad as she’s expecting. Thank you, ghastley!

King Coin: Sorry, I should have specified that Abiene will just be on call overnight at the chapel. She’ll probably get more rest at work than with Jerric! Lildereth has often used a Frenzy spell to get people to fight to the death, so that was what she feared Earana was doing. By the time she could get into position to Calm him, he would probably be lying on a pile of the guards he killed with a bunch of arrows sticking out of his shirt. As Darnand would say, her imagination carried her away for the moment. Thank you, KC!

Acadian: I thought of you and Buffy when Lildereth said those lines! Indeed, Lildereth doesn’t, er, blow her nose without a tactical plan, so a surprise can cause big problems. The trade-off for Jerric’s friendship is exposure, which is Lildereth’s worst nightmare. I also thought of you when Jerric made the horrendous gaffe of offering her payment! As you immediately knew, it would be hard to think of a way to make her more hurt and angry. The Nord was not having his best day. Thank you so much, Acadian!

McBadgere: Oh, Jerric’s feelings for Lildereth are worlds away from his Abiene disaster. Lildereth is a suddenly close friend in a hot little package, a bit like Darnand only less so and far more interesting naked. In some ways he is closer to Darnand and Lildereth than he is to Abiene, since she lacks the context for what happens between people who fight for their lives together. But, things keep changing. Many thanks, McB!


Where we are: Chorrol. Jerric punched Earana and got arrested. Lildereth bailed him out, stealthily of course. Jerric pissed off Lildereth when he asked her to steal his helm for money. Darnand pissed off Jerric by setting him on fire. Abiene’s letters to Jerric were lost in the accident.

The creature in this update would have been very vanilla, but McBadgere’s Androforms inspired me to make it a little bit cooler. Um, even though it doesn’t do much in this update.




Chapter 15: Chorrol, Part Twelve (Naked Again)


Darnand waited in the mages guild reception hall, a pottery mug in his hands. The kahve had long gone cold. Contumeliorus and Alberic’s wife stood close enough to let him appear occupied, yet far enough that he could safely ignore their conversation. Yesterday after Jerric had calmed down and released him from Teekeeus’ bedchamber, they had not found opportunity to converse. Today promised to be similar. There was a matter that needed discussion, if the Nord ever stirred from his rented bed. Perhaps another misadventure had claimed him between the Grey Mare and the guild hall. Darnand considered walking outside to check.

Teekeeus paced back across the chamber, staring at the outer wall as if he could see through it. Earana, Darnand decided. Teekeeus was surely using a spell to watch Great Oak Place. That Altmer had the chapter head still trapped in his hall. Recent events had agitated him further, and his nervousness was spreading through the guild like a contagion.

The Argonian whipped around and darted back into the dining chamber, jerking the draperies closed across his retreating tail. The front door opened. Jerric strolled through, carrying a wave of damp chill with him. His half-laced tunic and wrinkled trousers gave him the look of some cheerful vagabond. Darnand assessed his morning hair in amusement. One might purchase a comb for a Nord, he thought, but one cannot make him use it.

“Good morning,” Jerric called, though three steps brought him across the room. “How does the day greet you?” He plucked the mug from Darnand’s hand, downing half of the contents before Darnand could warn him.

“It is cold,” Darnand said as Jerric choked on the kahve. “Have you eaten anything?”

“Nope.” Jerric handed back the empty mug. “I’m ready.”

“Athragar is occupied in the library. Might we speak for a moment?”

Jerric propped an elbow on the long counter, shifting the pack across his shoulder. “Sure. You have another scroll for me to try? Let me guess, this time you’re going to, what, freeze my balls off? Shock my toenails? Set my head on fire and finish the job?”

Darnand placed the kahve mug on the counter. “I was unable to translate any part of the book while you had me cornered in Teekeeus’ chamber, but I did manage to open it. Some Imperials have appended notes in the margins of one section, presumably at the time the pillar fragment was relocated to Cloud Top. Anyone who performs a simple ritual should receive knowledge of a lightning spell from the pillar. The Imperials termed it “Fingers of the Mountain.” Any mortal would receive the spell, even one who has no training in destruction magic. However, I should think that there is more to the ritual than the notations describe. Otherwise the charred mage would have known to take precautions.”

“What about the papers? Did you figure out what to do?”

Darnand shook his head. “I have heard that the translations were already stolen from Teekeeus. The book remains in his keeping.”

Jerric looked thoughtful for a moment. “So you think the dead fellow wasn’t murdered, he accidentally shocked himself to death with the pillar?”

“That is my conclusion. The Welkynd stone you found on the corpse would suggest one necessary component.” He held up his hand before Jerric could speak. “I have no intention of attempting to gain this spell. It might be an advantage if the spell channeled atmospheric energy rather than a body’s magicka, but such a thing is unlikely. Additionally, any Welkynd stone that we might procure should go to Lildereth. Furthermore—”

Darnand found himself hauled to the basement by the front of his robe. Jerric kicked the door closed and placed him gently on the landing. “Out with it, Breton.”

“I took the notes,” Darnand said quietly, “after Teekeeus checked them last night.”

Jerric let go. “You just lied to me?”

“Teekeeus was eavesdropping from behind the draperies. He would assume that I tried to read the book yesterday, but he does not know who later stole the notes. I cracked the window latch to suggest forced entry. I intended to explain all of this at the earliest opportunity.” Darnand began to feel more annoyed than apologetic. “You did not trust me?”

Now Jerric looked sorry. “Well, you were spouting a bunch of dreck. ‘I shall not seek out that mysterious arcane power.’ Yeah, and I’m an Argonian concubine.”

“There is more to learn from the translations before we might attempt to use the pillar. Someone has already done the work, and it was not Teekeeus. I will admit that I am not comfortable with my actions.” Darnand straightened his robe.

“That other mage thought he knew what to do up at Cloud Top, and he’s a dark stain under a thin layer of rocks right now,” Jerric warned.

“We must be cautious,” Darnand agreed.

Jerric gave him a look. “I mean whoever did the translating could have made mistakes. You’ll need to check their work. It’s wrong, but we might need that book.”

The basement door opened. Athragar poked his head through. “Are you there, lads? Excellent!” He hopped down a few steps and stood polishing his hands together. “Shall we summon something dreadful?”

Yesterday’s efforts had seen their preparations complete. The three of them moved deeper into the basement and set about their final tasks. Athragar disappeared into the summoning chamber. Jerric stripped down and stood still while Darnand swabbed his back with the solution of frost salts. Everything inside the chamber must be purified, including the summoner. Frost salts were specific to this particular ritual.

Darnand’s participation was not essential, but Athragar had welcomed the extra set of hands. Jerric seemed eased by his presence. In this undertaking, an unsettled mind could be as detrimental as an ill-prepared one.

“You should thank me for your deforested state,” Darnand remarked. “Otherwise you might have accidentally summoned a wooly mammoth.” He stepped back to view his work. “Here, I expect you can reach the rest.”

Jerric made quick use of the solution. His nerves became evident while they waited for Athragar to finish.

“You are capable and well prepared,” Darnand assured him.

“I was thinking I would try a storm atronach,” Jerric replied. “Athragar said no. Now I wonder if I can…” He stared at his toes, shaking his head.

Darnand shared his concerns, but there was nothing to be gained by admitting it. “When you have succeeded, we should discuss the possibility of a spell that will allow us to communicate over distances. Skilled summoners can manage it without the aid of enchanted devices. Athragar thinks we should try.”

Jerric looked over in surprise.

“At the College of Winterhold, they teach a ritual that summons atronachs as thralls, persistent in this realm,” Darnand added. He prepared his next statement, in case Jerric was not yet sufficiently distracted.

A slow smile warmed his friend’s face. “Thanks, Darnand. You’re right, I can do this.” His palm thumped on Darnand’s shoulder. “I wish someday we could go to Skyrim.”

Darnand sighed and picked up the frost salt solution.

“Dammit!” said Jerric. He purified his hand again. “I wonder what kind of juice we’ll have to make when we try to summon each other.”

Darnand snorted, and Jerric laughed. The Nord didn’t need to finish his jests any more.

Athragar soon beckoned Jerric into the summoning chamber. Darnand waited outside. Opening a bridge into the Void was a dangerous prospect, and his presence would only invite accidents. He remembered his first contact with the flame atronach he had lured into his circle. Her rage at the confinement left him shaky for days. His daedroth’s bestial mind had been easy to dominate compared to the otherwise weaker flame atronach. Jerric had demonstrated exquisite control over his scamp, but Darnand had no idea how his friend would react to an atronach’s savage intelligence. He silently willed Jerric to succeed.

Athragar backed out into the corridor, mopping the floor with the mixture of dissolved void salts as he went. As he secured the door, Darnand heard Jerric begin his invocation. The Bosmer smiled up at Darnand. “You are right to fear for your friend, but I have not lost a student to a frost atronach in over half a century. I do not think I will lose one today.”

Darnand picked up the buckets. The vapor made his eyes water. “You were with me when I summoned my atronach,” he objected. “You were inside the chamber the entire time.”

Athragar took his arm absently and drew them down the corridor. “You have grown so much in these few years, my lad. You were not ready. I knew you would have tried on your own, had I denied you, and then I would have had a dead student and a rampaging daedra on my hands. I thought that failure would teach you caution, and I wanted to ensure that you survived the lesson. To my surprise, you succeeded. Good for you!” He gave Darnand a merry grin.

Darnand freed his arm. Only a wood elf’s capricious mind could find amusement at a time like this. He wondered what Lildereth was doing.

The two of them stood in the silent corridor, listening to the low rhythm of Jerric’s chanting. There was nothing he could do now for his friend. Darnand turned his mind toward other troubles. The pillar, the Altmer, and the Argonian.

Jerric had secured his recommendation by handing the recovered materials over to Teekeeus. Knocking Earana to the ground and getting arrested for it had merely put his personal stamp on the assignment. Darnand was certain Jerric would never have thought about that pillar again, if not for Darnand’s influence. While his friend seemed to support Darnand’s theft now, his conscience would soon bother him.

Though his principles would make him resist securing it, the Nord was right about possibly needing the book. If the notes did not warn against the kind of danger that could incinerate a person, then someone had made a mistake. It had not been Teekeeus. Darnand had seen enough to know that none of the work was in his hand. He considered the possibility of approaching Earana.

And there lay the problem. Even if he determined that the translations were rightfully hers, he would further betray Teekeeus by seeking her help. The charred remains at Cloud Top justified Teekeeus’ caution, though Darnand exempted himself from any related restrictions. Of course once Jerric’s mind had cleared of its present worries, he would insist that they return the notes to their proper owner. Once a fight was over, Jerric did not hold a grudge. If the work was Earana’s, Darnand would have to choose between deceiving Jerric and disloyalty to Teekeeus.

Your gut knows the answer, Jerric would say. Darnand almost smiled. His concerns lifted immediately.

A commotion arose in the summoning chamber. Darnand leaped for the door, Dispel in one hand and fire in the other. Athragar was a half-step ahead, his own hands glowing pink.

“Wait,” hissed Athragar. “Now he must control it. Be still.”

After an age, the clamor ceased. Darnand nervously began to cast a Detect Life spell.

A knock sounded in their predetermined signal. Athragar dispelled the wards, and Darnand removed the braces.

The door swung open. Jerric stood in a shroud of steam, one forearm braced against the frame. Moisture rolled down from his soaking hair. The cold hit Darnand along with the smell of sweat. His friend stepped to the side.

A crystalline mountain knelt beside the broken circle. Mist rose from the planes of its surface, illuminated by its pale inner light. As he watched, the creature lifted its hands from its thighs with the groan and pop of shifting ice. It brought them together in the traditional Elven gesture of greeting. Darnand’s mind emptied of everything but awe.

“What are you going to call this one?” Athragar murmured. “Twinkle? Snowflake?”

Darnand looked over in time to catch Jerric’s cold smile.

“It says its name is Ishckrihk,” he said.

[King Coin]

Huh, did Teekeeus just run away from Jerric? Did Jerric really take the mug and drink it before Darnand could warn him, or did Darnand just choose to be slow? Wow, Darnand is becoming tricky. He just lied for the benefit of someone that a preoccupied mage shouldn’t have even been aware of!

“I wish someday we could go to Skyrim.”
I do too! There’s still much to be done here however.

I like how you portray the atronachs. The flame atronach must have really scared Darnand! I really like Athragar! So cheerful despite talking of dead students, failure, and rampaging daedra!

I’m not entirely sure what Darnand is going to do regarding Earana and the pillar.

Jerric’s Atronach has a name of its own! That’s really cool!

[ghastley]

Love what you've done with the "learning to summon" experience. It's so much better than the game's method of just buying it and you instantly know everything. In particular the concept that summoning a Flame Atronach should be harder to learn than summoning a Daedroth. It's too easy to conflate the cost of learning with the cost of casting.

Are we to understand that the Frost Atronach telling Jerric what it's name is, rather than the other way round, indicates that the subduing was a closer thing than he'd like?

So Darnand wants the FotM spell, does he? He'll have even less reason not to, if he learns that the Welkynd stone isn't lost in the process.